


Time to Relax

by Silex



Category: Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Bio Organic Weapons | B.O.W.s, Body Horror, F/M, Infected Characters, Light Angst, No Plot/Plotless
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-21
Updated: 2018-04-21
Packaged: 2019-04-26 00:26:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,350
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14390265
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Silex/pseuds/Silex
Summary: After stopping Il Veltro Chris and Jill go on a well earned vacation. Unfortunately things don't go as planned.





	Time to Relax

**Author's Note:**

  * For [HostisHumaniGeneris](https://archiveofourown.org/users/HostisHumaniGeneris/gifts).



> Eventually I'll learn how to write summaries.

It had been overcast for most of the day, but the clouds had broken about an hour ago and Jill had insisted that they go down to the beach and watch the sunset, which was what they were doing now. Or at least he was, next to him Jill had her eyes closed despite her being the one who had wanted to go out in the damp and sit on the cold beach as night fell and it got even colder.

That was fine though, Chris had a feeling that it was being outside together that mattered to her more than watching the sky turn from orange to red as the sun sank lower. Besides, he wasn’t sure how well she could see at this point. She tended to lean in close when talking to him and he’d noticed the way she kept one hand on the wall as she moved slowly through the vacation home that they’d been staying at courtesy of Quint.

Things had started as a well-earned vacation, a way to relax while matters relating to Il Veltro and the FBC’s involvement were wrapped up. Something big was going down in Europe in the aftermath of it all, but the higher-ups in the BSAA were being very quiet about it, understandable since in the wake of one international incident they weren’t about to push their luck on something that might amount to nothing.

Little as Chris had wanted to admit it, good publicity was necessary in the wake of what everything that had happened. It was the BSAA’s chance to shine and firmly cement its position at the foremost counter-bioterrorism organization. Letting the two of them, its most famous agents, get dragged into what might turn out to be a wild goose chase wasn’t something that was worth the risk at the moment.

Both he and Jill had tried to get more information when the BSAA announced that their flight back to America had already been arranged, much to their chagrin, as they’d been making plans for a vacation in Europe, something that the two of them had always wanted to do.

When Chris had pressed Quint for information after getting wind that he was following up on some leads, potentially related to why the BSAA didn’t want the two of them in Europe, the technician had gotten increasingly vague.

The upshot was that, though the vacation they wanted was out of the question, pressing Quint for information had yielded interesting results – a friend of his from college had a vacation home in the Thousand Islands that he was pretty sure that Chris and Jill could stay at if they wanted a vacation that badly.

Chris had, with encouragement from Jill, relented and agreed to the alternate vacation plan, which had gone off without a hitch. Apparently it was the start of the off season, whatever that meant, and Quint’s friend had already left for the season, meaning that the house was theirs for as long as they wanted.

Ending up in the little out of the way, beachfront cottage had probably been for the best in the end.

“This is nice, listening to the waves and the birds,” Jill said, leaning against him, “Peaceful.”

“I guess,” was his absent minded reply as he stared into the distance, lost in his own thoughts.

The sound of water reminded him too much of what they’d just gotten done with and the only birds out at the time were a bunch of seagulls, screeching at each other in the surf.

He put an arm around her, holding her close, “Are you cold?”

Jill shook her head, “No, why?”

She felt cold to him, her skin damp and clammy to the touch, but that was the way it had been since things had started.

He didn’t say anything, instead he kept watching the horizon, the last light of day fading from red to purple.

The first day of their vacation had been cool, but clear, giving them a chance to walk along the beach and marvel at how lovely the area was and how few people there were around.

Upon arriving they discovered that, while the house itself was nothing exceptional, it was on a very large beachfront piece of property, perfect for getting away and having some time for themselves. Jill, trying to make the best of the situation, went as far as to comment that it was better than ending up in some tourist hotspot in Europe where they’d end up surrounded by throngs of people, rushing from sightseeing location to sightseeing location and waiting hours for restaurant reservations. Chris had his doubts, especially when they discovered what Quint had meant by it being ‘the off-season’.

Clouds had started to gather in the early evening that first day and by nightfall it was raining steadily.

The next day was cold and foggy and gray and Jill complained of feeling under the weather, effectively putting an end to any plans that they’d had for the day other than Chris going out grocery shopping when Jill wasn’t feeling better by noon and they failed to find any takeout places that delivered to where the house was, revealing the disadvantage of such an out of the way location.

Still, a home cooked meal hadn’t been the worst thing in the world and the two of them had gone to bed early, hoping that the next day would be better.

It started out promising, with the sun shining in the morning and Jill insisting that she felt a little bit better, though she’d slept late and looked pale. She’d made breakfast for the two of them, suggesting that breakfast in bed might be a good way to start the day, which was what they’d done, sun streaming in the open window as she picked listlessly at the food she’d prepared for herself.

After that they’d gone out for a walk along the beach, wading out to about knee deep in the water before deciding that it was going to be too cold for swimming and that they’d need to figure out some other activities to occupy their time.

They spent a few hours walking along the beach, talking and enjoying each other’s company and the chance to simply spend a day doing nothing and not worrying about anything.

But he had worried, especially when, on the way back to the cottage, Jill tripped and fell. She hadn’t gotten hurt and when he helped her to her feet she made a joke of it and they both laughed it off.

Except that it happened twice more on the way back.

So despite it being a lovely, sunny day, the rest of it was spent inside watching TV and talking about what they’d do for the rest of the vacation, once she’d gotten over whatever it was that was wrong with her and she was feeling better.

By that night her eyes had a glassy, blank look to them and she was sweating and out of breath from the slightest exertion. She’d insisted that she’d feel better after a shower and she’d looked better afterwards, more relaxed at least.

So they’d let the matter drop and gone to bed, never once considering that it was anything worse than a little bug that she’d shake off in a day or two.

That the vaccine Jill had administered to herself on the _Queen Zenobia_ hadn’t worked was unthinkable.

“Things could have turned out a lot worse,” Jill spoke when he failed to reply to her question, “At least we didn’t have to…”

She reached up and awkwardly put her more human left hand on his, fingers too long and with too many joints curling loosely around his hand.

When they finally came to terms with the fact that what was wrong with her wasn’t just a cold they’d discussed what they were going to do, which was make the best of things for as long as they could, but be careful about it. The moment things started to get bad, they agreed, they’d contact the BSAA and things would play out however they would.

That had been four days into the vacation, when grayish blotches had started to spread across her body and she’d discovered, while brushing her teeth that morning, that she was growing fangs. He’d walked in on her staring at herself in the mirror, nose almost pressed against the glass, lips pulled back in a grimace as she looked at her teeth. Her mouth went back farther than it should have, giving a better view of those fangs than should have been possible, but not as much so as it would come later.

They never actually said what bad was, but the mutual assumption was that it would be the moment her mind started to slip.

So when her tongue started to swell, making it hard for her to carry on a conversation it hadn’t been bad, because, though it was a struggle to talk, she was still lucid.

When he’d gotten out of bed early to go for a jog to clear his head and gotten back to her struggling to stand because her feet had begun to twist the wrong way, growing talons scratching the wood floor as she tried to get back up, it hadn’t been bad enough to worry. He’d helped her to her feet, ignoring what was happening to her right hand, the way her fingers were so much longer than they had been, that there were seven of them, a second thumb growing on the other side so that it was roughly symmetrical.

The symmetry didn’t last, by the next day her hand had started to split between her fourth and fifth fingers, but that hadn’t been bad either.

It was raining and there was no one on the beach, so when she’d said that she wanted to get dressed and go for a walk that day, he’d agreed.

The cold didn’t seem to bother her, even though in nothing but jeans and a t-shirt she was soaked to the skin in minutes. He followed, bundled up against the rain and wind, keeping an eye out for trouble. What was happening to her wasn’t visible from any distance, especially not on an overcast, rainy day, but if they ran into anyone else crazy enough to be out walking in the weather there would be no avoiding the truth that they were both ignoring.

Because it still hadn’t gotten bad.

They’d kept walking, her wading out waist deep into the water because it helped her balance, while he took off his shoes and let the waves lap over his feet without going any farther in. The water was too cold for anything more, even if Jill said it felt fine.

After the walk they’d gotten back to the cottage and gone straight to the shower, Jill following him and climbing in to join him without bothering to take her clothing off. Unable to stand on the slippery floor, she’d leaned against him, smiling while he’d tried to ignore how her smile stretched too far back and the way her pupils had dilated so that there was no color to her eyes and a milky, cataract like film had begun to spread over her left eye.

“Maybe we won’t,” he offered in a belated response to her statement, wishing that the inkling of disgust he felt at the sight of her wasn’t there. She’d stopped bothering to hide her fangs when she smiled, or maybe they’d grown so large that she wasn’t able to. Her normal teeth were still there, but behind them there were fangs and when she smiled, if she smiled too wide, her whole jaw looked like it was going to unhinge. He’d seen it happen too, during the last meal they had together, before she insisted that they eat separately, “Maybe we can just stay here, retire and buy this place from Quint’s friend, or one like it.”

“We could,” she said wistfully, opening her eyes to stare ahead at the dark sky over the water. Even though it was too dark to see he knew that her left eye was a solid, metallic gunmetal gray, and the pupil of her right was dilated and fixed, “But…”

“No worrying,” he gave her a gentle squeeze, trying to ignore the way she seemed to move inside her own skin, muscle loose over bone that shifted and compressed in ways that it shouldn’t, “We’re still on vacation.”

“For another week at least,” she agreed, lifting her right hand and using the smaller of the two segments to try and brush her hair back from her face, the strands plastered to her skin by salt and slime, “Afterwards though, what do we do?”

Because once it had been clear that things weren’t going to get bad that had been the question looming over them, heavier than the rainclouds that had hung over the island for most of their vacation.

“Get back to work, I guess,” he said, “Find out whatever it was that they weren’t talking about.”

“That’s an option,” she agreed, “But we need to figure something out before then. We can’t put it off until the last minute.”

Jill was right. He didn’t like it, but she was right. The thing was, what was there to figure out? She was still fine, mentally at least, and that was what mattered. She wasn’t dangerous even if she was a B.O.W., even if what they were doing was a massive dereliction of duty, possibly putting countless people at risk. They weren’t though, because so far there had been no indication that Jill was going to lost control of herself and it seemed less and less likely that she would with every passing day. As far as he could tell the changes had stopped and she was still herself.

“They can’t do anything to you,” Chris said, surprising himself with the conviction in his voice, “You’re still…you.”

Then he surprised himself again by kissing her on the cheek.

“I am,” she agreed, smiling too wide, her tongue filling her mouth, starting to push past her teeth. There were more teeth at the tip of her tongue, rings of them around another mouth. Talking was still difficult for her, though she’d figured out some trick to it and he’d gotten better at understanding her, “I’m just afraid of ending up locked away in a lab somewhere, because that’s what’s going to happen, isn’t it? They can’t let me out and if you’re right and they don’t kill me, what else is there?”

Her voice was a wet hiss, her tongue lolling out of her mouth before she managed to retract it. For a moment he wondered how she managed to speak at all, where the words were coming from, then wished he hadn’t. The way her tongue moved when she spoke, the rings of fangs opening and closing… Instead he tried to turn the conversation in a more positive direction, “They won’t keep you there forever, they can’t. They’ll come up with a cure and everything’ll be fine.”

Except if a cure had been likely they already would have reported what had happened and headed back to let the researchers get to work. They would have done it at the beginning, before things progressed as far as they had.

So he tried again, a less obvious lie, “Or if there’s no cure they’ll realize that you’re not dangerous and then they’ll have to let you go and if they won’t let you work for the BSAA anymore I’ll retire and –”

“Stop there,” she smiled, a small thin one, a human one, “I like that, we both retire and that’s then end of it. Retire and buy a house by the beach.”

“If that’s what you want,” he smiled back, “It doesn’t need to be by the beach, I just figured you like it here.”

She laughed, “I think it needs to be by the beach.”

“How about down in Florida then,” he tried to make a joke of it, “At least there it’ll be warm year round.”

Shrugging away from him she stood up and stretched, lifting her arms over her head. Chris watched the way the two halves of her right arm moved, fingers intertwining to hold the parts together. Lowering her arms she offered him a hand up, the larger half of her right arm, with its long, clawed fingers, reaching out for him, while the other half curled back and kept out of the way.

He took her hand, let her pull him to his feet. Since the changes had stopped her coordination seemed to have returned, though there were times when she still had difficulty getting around on the wood floors of the house. Her balance was fine though, which was a relief. Helping her get around for those few days had been a challenge and put a lot of strain on both of them, the fear that it was a sign of things getting worse, going bad, had been constant. The fear had passed though, bringing with it a new set of concerns, ones he was determined to ignore for as long as possible.

“So what now?” he asked, almost, but not quite hugging her. Blaming it on the way her right arm was jointed and the spines along her left shoulder and in places down her back was the easiest thing to do, rather than the fact that the two of them still weren’t comfortable with the fact that she was a B.O.W.

As though that were something they could ever get comfortable with.

Except now that the changes were done she didn’t seem bothered by it, upset by his reactions to her, worried about the future, but not about what she had become. He wanted to ask about that, but couldn’t figure out the right way.

“I was thinking maybe we go skinny dipping,” she laughed again.

It was a joke, clearly. Though she’d been swimming, or wading at least, plenty of times since the start of their vacation, she hadn’t undressed since the day she’d put on the jeans and t-shirt for their walk along the beach. At first it had been because she hadn’t wanted to look at herself, see what was happening to her body and by the time she’d come to terms with things as much as she was able, her changes had made getting undressed impossible. Between what had happened to her right arm, her feet and all the places where spines had grown through her clothing, taking it all off was impossible. Besides, Chris had gotten the impression that part of the reason she was always wanting to go to the beach, walk in the rain, or take showers was because she was uncomfortable otherwise and the clothing helped keep her skin damp.

She proved him wrong, about it being a joke at least, by reaching down and lifting her shirt, needing to peel it off of her thanks to the slime gluing it to her. It gave him the first clear look at her body in over a week, confirming suspicions. There were more, not arms exactly, but appendages, down her left side. He’d felt them move beneath her shirt on more than one occasion, little two pronged pinchers that stretched out for a moment, then clamped tightly back into place, conforming to the contours of her body and creating a section of interlocking armored plates down her side.

Hesitating as the shirt snagged on spines and then got caught on her right arm Jill sighed, “I need some help here.”

Mindful of the spines on her arms, Chris grabbed the shirt and finished pulling it over her head. It got stuck a second time as she tried to work the sleeve past her right elbow, where, amid a cluster of particularly long spines, the two halves split of her arm. In the end the fabric ripped, not that the shirt had been in terribly good condition before then.

Her jeans proved a much greater challenge, the sturdy denim had been further hardened by repeated soakings in salt water and proved too stiff to work past the spines on her thighs.

Unwilling to admit defeat she looked to Chris again, “You’ve got a knife with you, right?”

He did, out of habit he always carried at least a pocket knife with him at all times and, though it wasn’t easy, he was able to cut away her jeans. Chitin, similar to the patches on her arms and covering the little limbs down her left side, grew in spiraling patterns up and down her legs and the outsides of her thighs, where the spines were.

“Your turn,” she teased, struggling not to smile too wide.

Despite the cold he complied, folding his shirt and pants and placing them on the driftwood log where they had been sitting earlier.

Taking his hand with both halves of her right hand she walked him to the water.

It wasn’t any warmer than it had been the first day and, gritting is teeth to keep them from chattering, he followed her in. No wonder she felt cold all the time if she was spending so much time out in this, but it didn’t seem to bother her at all.

Bringing him out to where the water was chest deep she ducked her head under and swam in a slow circle around him. Surfacing she smiled, forgetting herself and letting her tongue slip out far enough to brush against her breasts, which were, mostly unchanged as he discovered when she pressed against him.

“See?” she hissed, “It’s not that bad once you get used to it.”

Holding her felt all wrong and he didn’t think it was just the cold numbing him. Her skin felt too thick, rubbery to the touch, her body without muscle tone until she moved. Much like the oozes, the other oozes, the ones that they had fought on the _Queen Zenobia_.

It was getting dark enough that if he didn’t look too hard he could almost pretend that there was nothing wrong with her. Her eyes shone in the darkness, but it was impossible to see what was wrong with them, her mouth stretching back nearly to her ears was something that could be blamed on a trick of light and shadow.

If he kept his eyes on her face, her smile, he could ignore that her arms felt all wrong when she wrapped them around his shoulders, the way she felt when he hugged her back.

He felt her lift her legs, leaning back and letting him and the water hold her up. Even in the cold and the water he could feel what she was doing, feel the slime that glistened on her skin, as she rubbed against her.

Her brow furrowed in concentration and she leaned back until she was submerged, then she let go of him. A moment later three sets of claws were on his hips as she grabbed him to orient herself, her lips and tongue brushing against him, hair floating up and swaying in the water, tickling against his stomach.

She was under for a very long time without coming up for air, but that was something she did now. It had worried him the first time it had happened, her forgetting to surface for air because she didn’t need to, but he was getting used to it.

He continued to let her try for a time, until the cold got to be too much for him, leaving him shaking and numb to her touch. Mindful of her spines he put his hands beneath her arms and guided her back up.

Her hair was over her face and he helped her brush it away from her eyes, a difficult task between her claws and his fingers being numb.

She was frowning, her eyes shining with tears.

“I’m sorry. I wanted to try and under water you wouldn’t see me so…”

“It’s not that, not you,” he hissed through chattering teeth, “It’s too cold.”

“Oh,” she said quietly, only partially mollified.

“Let’s get back to shore,” he suggested.

She followed, out of the water, across the beach, back up to the house and into the shower.

He didn’t bother turning the lights on in the house. There was light enough from the moon and when he closed the bathroom door they managed by feel.

At first they stood in the shower, her leaning against the wall and then against him to balance, as he warmed up and stopped shivering.

With the blinds closed over the one window in the bathroom it was dark enough that it was the same whether his eyes were open or closed.

Jill was leaning against him, the water slowly warming her as well.

As long as he was careful where he put his hands nothing felt wrong.

The skin of her breasts was smooth, slick and warm from the water washing over her. When he kissed her the taste was almost the same, the faintest hint of salt and something he couldn’t place beneath it, something new, but not unpleasant.

The insides of her thighs felt exactly as it should have, no bumps, no armor, nothing that shouldn’t have been there. They were slick with something that the shower wasn’t able to wash away.

“Chris?”

“No worrying, we’re on vacation.”

Careful maneuvering followed, her left arm around his shoulders, right arm braced against the shower wall for balance. The shower was small enough that she was able to brace her back against the wall as well, silencing the skitter and click of her claws against the floor.

She was tight, like she always was when they first got started, but thanks to the slime he slid right in on the first thrust once he got himself lined up. Gasping, she tensed against him, around him, leaning further back against the wall, bracing herself for his next thrust and the ones that followed.

Sighs and hisses and gasps.

Jill pressed her face against his shoulder, he could feel her breathing, exhalations in time with his efforts.

“You’re so warm,” she murmured, words falling into the rhythm of their bodies.

There were differences in temperature, she was slightly cool, as he’d expected, but not unpleasantly so. Differences in texture also existed, again nothing unpleasant, just strange, at least at first. The sensation of little bumps that hadn’t been there before against the underside of his cock, was, once he got used to it, quite enjoyable.

The sound of claws scraping against the tile was almost lost over the sound of water hitting the shower curtain.

She arced her back, held him tighter as he wrapped both arms around her and lifted her off the floor.

Instantly her legs were around his waist, helping him hold her up.

Against his skin he felt her teeth as her lips pulled back in a grimace of pleasure.

“There, right there,” she hissed, “Just like that.”

Her breathing took on a different, harsher note as her mouth opened wider with each gasp.

Her tongue, something best ignored, brushed along his shoulder, his neck, down his back.

She’d always been a biter, something they’d joked about on more than one occasion in the past when she’d accidentally managed to draw blood.

It didn’t hurt that bad, not enough for him to stop, not when she was so wet and tight and

…so easy for him to pretend that there really wasn’t anything to worry about.

At that particular moment all that mattered was the two of them.

Slime dripped down her legs, clinging to him as well, leaving him impossibly sensitive, aware of every twitch and squeeze of her muscles.

He was right on the edge, a few more thrusts.

She bit him.

Hard.

He let out a shout of surprise, but didn’t stop, not when he was so close.

He came, pressing her against the shower wall.

She thrashed and writhed against him, movements impossible for the human body to manage, as she came a moment later, convulsing around him.

When they were both done he carefully let her go and she slid bonelessly to the shower floor. He slumped down next to her and for a long while they just sat there, catching their breath and not saying anything.

Eventually the hot water ran out and he rose to his feet, washed the slime off as best as he was able, hoping that if he couldn’t get it all it wouldn’t itch too badly as it dried.

Jill muttered something sleepily and he bent down to help her up. She stood up, but made no effort to leave the now cold shower so he got out to towel off and go collapse into bed.

Sometime later he heard the shower turn off and Jill came to join him.

She hadn’t bothered toweling off at all, and curled up against him, wet and cold.

Somehow he still managed to fall asleep.

The next day he slept late and woke up tired and aching, probably from how long he’d spent out in the frigid water last night and then Jill climbing into bed still wet from the shower. He’d caught a cold, that was all. It would pass in a day or two.

Jill was already gone, probably down at the beach, which was for the best. Dried blood had glued the sheets to his back, though nothing seemed to reopen when he pulled them free and went to the bathroom to see what the damage was. She’d bitten him a few times and some of them must have been deeper than he’d thought, or her teeth were sharper than he’d expected.

Looking in the mirror he saw that his back was covered in bloody rosettes from where the teeth on her tongue had gotten him. There were also a number of deep gashes from where she’d raked him with claws and spines without him even feeling it.

The blood was already flaking away from the injuries and when he gingerly dabbed at the worst looking one with a damp washcloth the scab fell away, revealing a dark gray scar.

Sighing, he cleaned the rest of the injuries.

More scars, some of them rough and raised.

“I’m sorry.”

Caught up in his examination he hadn’t even heard Jill come up behind him until she spoke.

“Don’t worry about it, it’s nothing.”

Except it wasn’t.

They both knew it wasn’t.

By the afternoon the pain was worse and he was feeling feverish.

At Jill’s suggestion they went down to the beach.

The short walk was an ordeal, with every step he could feel his joints popping, hear tendons snapping.

The cool water was soothing, dulled the pain and helped him relax as he sat in the shallows next to Jill.

“What do we do?” Jill wondered, head bowed, unable to look at him.

“For now we wait things out,” he smiled and put an arm around her, pulled her close against him, “Plan our retirement. I was thinking maybe somewhere down in the Florida Keys. There are plenty of little islands down there, we find an out of the way one where no one will bother us and make it ours.”

“That sounds nice,” she sighed, resting her head on his shoulder, “I can live with that. I just –”

“No worrying,” he cut her off, “We’re still on vacation for three more days.”

She held his hand with both halves of her right hand as they sat in silence, watching the tide come in and the clouds drift by.

It seemed like the weather had finally broken and the rest of their vacation would be bright and sunny.

He looked down at her fingers entwined with his, noted the way his nails were already starting to darken and curve into claws.

Three more days would be more than enough.


End file.
